Unexpectedly you - YokLongtae

Chapter one

Happiness wasn't real. It was an illusion. It was just a break, a breath of fresh air before our life, composed only of suffering, continued.

We're actually meant to be like this, you know? To smile in endless pain, you know?

This time though, he was the one to blame.
This is why he didn't even try to get out of this loop of sadness. He knew he didn't deserve happiness after what could have happened if the protestors hadn't saved them...

A quiet, amazed gasp woke him from his monologue.

He turned around and found a boy looking at his painting, eyes wide in amazement, mouth agape as he scrutinized Yok's work. Yok had never seen this boy before.

His hair was down, slightly brushing his dark eyes, hiding them a bit. He seemed a lot shorter than Yok.

When that amazed stare focused on his eyes, Yok realized that maybe he had been staring at him.
"I'm sorry. Was I thinking out loud?"
His voice was gentle.

Perhaps he was making it extra soft since he was talking to a stranger.
It suited his almost fairy-like look.

He looked like he didn't belong there. At least, not next to a guy like Yok.

Yok was wearing his usual sleeveless top, with the sides always too big, exposing his whole torso and the tattoo he had under his chest. The boy was wearing a white shirt under a beige cardigan. Overall, just light colours, in contrast to the artist who always wore dark ones.

"No, you weren't," Yok tried to reassure him, but when the boy replied with a surprised "Oh," Yok realized he had just admitted he was staring at him without an apparent reason.

He had to think of something. The boy was now looking awkwardly at the floor, fidgeting.

"Do you...uhm...like this painting too?" the shy boy asked.
"This painting? I don't know. The more I look at it, the more repulsive I find it."
"I guess I can see why."

You can't.

"You can?"

Yok thought what was about to follow was a lecture from that stranger about how it was normal for an artist to grow tired of their own creation.

"Yeah, I mean, the more I look at it, the smaller I feel. It's a predominant figure. Isn't that what you're feeling? I feel like it's getting bigger as the seconds pass by. There's every emotion possible in his gaze, I can't even decipher it, but it looks like that is the whole point; that the model was really going through a battle with his own emotions and was losing it. Maybe it's also because of the background and the pose? I don't know. But everything revolves around his eyes.

-Right. Dan's eyes. Yok used to lose himself in that darkness. He used to find them so beautiful. He still does, but the repugnant feeling that followed was stronger than any good feelings Yok had preserved for him. There was no going back for them. -

I wonder if it was the artist's intention. I—Oh, I'm sorry. Am I talking too much? I always tend to overshare. No offense, but you look like you study art, so maybe what I'm saying is just bullshit."

Yok chuckled. The chuckle interrupted the boy's rant. He licked his lips and took it as a hint to stop talking.

"You're good. I find it interesting to hear people's opinions. Especially when they aren't art experts. In the end, artists want to reach the public, don't they? A person's observation who's ignorant about the subject is more important than that of a passionate one. If they also feel the same thing, then they've succeeded. Am I right?"
The shorter boy smiled and slightly nodded at that.